


Lavender Does Not Smell Like Flowers

by Roadside_Wildflower



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 20:51:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17373095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roadside_Wildflower/pseuds/Roadside_Wildflower
Summary: Lavender Brown had hoped to leave the Battle of Hogwarts a hero, but instead, she has been reduced to a social pariah after Fenrir Greyback’s mauling. With few friends and no home left to turn to, she finds solace in another woman whose scars from the war also seem like they can’t be healed.





	Lavender Does Not Smell Like Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever fan fic! Never thought I'd write something like this, but I was in a rut with a more serious creative project, so I wrote this and it ended up being a lot of fun. Made me excited to be writing again, and it helped get me out of that rut with my other project, so I'll probably write some other stories later too :D Plus, the world needs more lesbian romance!

    Tendrils of tobacco smoke curled around Lavender’s head, lingering in the air around her like a dense cloak against the evening sun, as she gazed out from her sightless balcony. Her living arrangements were far from ideal, but the flat was the cheapest thing without roommates she could arrange in muggle London that still had easy access to the wizarding world. Whatever feeble relationship she had had with her parents was gone after they had learned what she had become, so she was left to look after herself, which suited her well enough. She wanted little do to with the wizarding world and it wanted little to do with her. Lavender idly traced the long, jagged scar that ran down from her left eye down to her collarbone. It was almost funny, how one brief instant could change your life so much. One moment she had been whole, beautiful, and on the verge of proving herself to be a hero. The next, she lay bleeding on the ground, with bite marks on her shoulder and a face gouged by the claws of a werewolf. There was no healing these wounds, no matter how much anyone might try. Her eye was gone and her body was marred; cursed wounds didn’t go away.

Lavender sighed again and looked down at the paper resting in her hands. She should be flattered, she supposed, to have received a personal letter from the new headmistress of Hogwarts, but it felt like no honor. She had read and reread the letter’s short contents perhaps a dozen times by now; she knew that McGonagall had wrote her bravery during the battle of Hogwarts, that she had been invited back to finish her seventh year, and that McGonagall believed her more… wolfish tendencies were no issue to the school. But something in the headmistress’s words had rang flat, and as ridiculous as she knew she was being, it seemed like the subtext of the letter was telling her not to come. McGonagall had said she was a hero, but she failed to mention anything specific that she had done, and Lavender knew it was because there was nothing particularly heroic that she had done. McGonagall claimed that her lycanthropy would be no barrier to attending school, but she knew just as well as anyone how poorly werewolves were regarded by the rest of the wizarding world. It hadn’t been that long since Lupin had been forced from the school, after all, and McGonagall had to know how upset and frustrated parents, students, and even some faculty would be with her attendance.

Snapping her fingers, a small flame sprung from her fingertips, and she held the letter to the flame. As always though, the letter remained untouched. Much like the scars on her body, this letter wasn’t going away. She knew that tomorrow, she’d be standing at the station, ready to leave for Hogwarts. Though she had searched, the muggle world held no place for her, so she was left to face the anger of a world that would rather her be dead, and she was left to finally face the woman who had saved her life.

 

***

 

“Oh Lav, I’m just still so thrilled I get to have you back,” her best friend, Parvati, said while giving her a big hug from the train seat next to her. Parvati had been the only person who had visited her while she was in the hospital, and she had been the only person that Lavender had bothered staying in touch with after she was cleared to leave. “If I’m honest, I wasn’t sure if you’d feel up to coming back,” she said, biting her lower lip. “You didn’t sound like you were too keen on coming back, really.”

“I’m not sure I was,” Lavender replied, with a soft chuckle. “I just didn’t have anywhere else to go.” The young woman paused, collecting her thoughts. “It’s been great seeing you again, but I’m gonna step out to the veranda, on the back of the train, for a smoke, if you don’t mind.”

Parvati gave her small smile, and nodded gently. “I’ll be around the train, so come find me when you’re done, okay?”

Lavender nodded and proceeded towards the back of the train, keeping her eye fixed towards the ground as she did. The chaos and sounds of the train drove her forward; the chatter and laughter of students grated on her enhancing hearing, and the aroma of the wide array of different foods being opened and eaten blended together into a sickly mix.

Pushing the door open from the back of the train, she stepped out on the veranda. Two students, younger than her, stood, talking cheerfully, but as their gaze flicked up to her face, she saw the shock in their eyes. Careful not to let any emotion show, she walked over to the railing and gazed out at the scenery, listening as the two younger students hurriedly walked back inside the train. With a sigh, she finished her hand inside her purse, and a moment later, a lit cigarette lay between her lips. It wasn’t long ago that younger students would approach her, asking her friendly face for help, or that some annoying boy would hit on her. Now, it seemed, things were different in a not so subtle way.

“It doesn’t match your aesthetic, you know,” a weary voice said, approaching her from behind as the door swung shut.

“What, the scar doesn’t strike you as cute?” Lavender replied, turning to give the woman behind her a playful look.

    “I’m not talking about the scar, stupid,” Hermione said. “It just seems odd to see such a bubbly, cute girl smoking something as nasty as tobacco,” she said, joining Lavender up against the railing.

    “Want one?” Lavender asked, fishing another cigarette from her purse.

    “No thanks, I’m not an idiot like you,” the brunette said, giving her a withering glance.

    Lavender shrugged. “I guess it just wouldn’t match your perfect-girl aesthetic,” she said tartly. “It helps mask some of the smells for me, and besides. Sometimes, it’s nice to do something you know is bad for you. It feels good to have that sort of control over yourself and your body.”

    Hermione dipped her hands into Lavender’s purse, and came out with a cigarette. “Light me up.”

    With a snap of her fingers, Lavender brought her hand and the flame on it up to the cigarette as Hermione shielded it from the wind. Hermione sputtered when she inhaled the tobacco and yanked the cigarette out of her mouth.

    “Merlin, that stuff is foul, I don’t know how you stand it,” she said, shaking her head, “but I will admit, I’m impressed by that little bit of wandless magic you did there.”

    “It wasn’t too hard to pick up; I wasn’t really ever that far behind you in our classes,” Lavender said, gazing out at the open expanse of the moors as the train pulled them ever away from London. “You never visited me at the hospital, Hermione,” Lavender stated simply, no bitterness or malice in her voice.

Hermione's breath caught, as if she wasn’t expecting Lavender to mention it. “I did come to visit you, once,” she said, the words softly slipping from her lips, “but you were sleeping. When I saw what Fenrir had done to you, I- I just felt so guilty. If I had been there, just a moment sooner, I could have saved you.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Lavender said, shaking her head. “You did save me, after all. Unless you thought that all I was was a pretty face,” she said, winking at the distraught woman beside her, “in which case then I guess you fucked up a bit.”

“I still think your face is quite pretty,” Hermione said, looking away, somewhat embarrassedly. “Obviously it would be better if you didn’t have that constant reminder there, but you still look quite like the Lavender from before, with your pretty curls and soft face,” she said, drifting off. “I’m really impressed by just how well you’ve been able to hold together.”

“I don’t think I’ve held together quite as well as you think,” Lavender said, taking a drag from her cigarette.

“You really have,” Hermione insisted, looking firmly at Lavender. “I’m not sure I would’ve had the strength to come back to school, if I had been the one that Fenrir had attacked. I was barely able to summon up the will come back as it is,” she said bitterly, staring emptily out at the passing scenery.

“Sounds like things haven’t been great for one of Hogwarts’ biggest heroes then.”

“No, they haven’t.” A silence hung between the two as the rushing air whistled in their ears. “Things haven’t really worked out for us the way we would have hoped,” Hermione began quietly, “me, Ron, and Harry. It’s been harder than we thought.”

“There were no celebrations on the platform for Harry. He isn’t coming back to school, is he?”

“No,” Hermione whispered, trying to keep her face calm. “He hasn’t been able to do much of anything, since the battle happened. Most days he can’t leave the house.”

“And Ron?” Lavender asked tentatively.

“I guess he’s been doing alright, comparatively to me and Harry at least. He’s taking a year off to stay at home, before deciding what to do next. The decision suits him, but he’s still quite bitter about our breakup.”

“I’m guessing you came to your senses and realized that loser wasn’t worth your time?”

“You don’t have to say it so crudely,” Hermione said, blushing slightly. “Just… after everything that happened, I realized that I wasn’t happy with the way things were. I wasn’t happy with our relationship. Us being together… it was what was supposed to happen, like in some poorly written fairytale. That’s the way he felt at least. It almost seemed like he felt that he was entitled to me,” Hermione said, shivering, “but I don’t think I ever loved him, not in the way I was supposed to at least.”

“I get that,” Lavender said, nodding her head. “I was never really interested in that buffoon either.”

“Then why on earth did you date him?” Hermione asked, taken aback.

    “I was just trying to prove a point, and a loud one at that.”

“And just what was that point?”

“Come on Hermione, you’re a smart girl, surely you know.”

Hermione paused. “Was it… because of the rumors? About you and Parvati?” Hermione wasn’t much of one for gossip, but at one point, even she had heard those rumors.

“Yeah. It was causing both of us a lot of trouble, and eventually, word of it got so bad that it spread to my parents,” Lavender explained, taking another drag of her cigarette.

“That’s really tough, I’m sorry.”

“They were going to cut me out of their lives, totally, if it were true. So I had to put on the best, most obnoxious lovestruck act I could.”

“I hadn’t heard much about the wizarding world’s views on homosexuality, but I didn’t think it would be so bad.”

“It’s not great,” the young woman said, shrugging, “but some are worse than others. When you think about it though, the wizarding world is a culture that hordes its wealth, withholds medical cures from the muggle world, is obsessed with blood purity, has an enslaved race of beings, and is built on fear and power. It’s not surprising that you’d find quite a bit of traditional minded people here.”

“And, were you and Parvati…”

“No, she’s not gay,” Lavender said, shaking her head. “She stuck with me through all of it though, even though it would have been much easier for her to just distance herself from me. Honestly, I’m not sure if I could ask for a better friend.” Lavender took another drag of her cigarette, before flicking the remaining stub off of the train. “Anyways, what is it that has hurt you so much?” Lavender asked, looking closely at Hermione. “You don’t have quite the same quick wit or smile as before. You seem a lot more subdued, and I imagine it took a lot more than leaving Ronald Weasley to conjure that kind of change in you.”

Hermione grimaced, before looking down at her shoes. “I was tortured, by Bellatrix Lestrange, during the war. It made me reflect considerably on life. She left me with a parting gift, much like Fenrir left you,” the woman said, rolling up her sleeve.

Lavender’s eyes widened as she saw the scar that had been carved into her flesh. “Fucking… just, damn, Hermione. I’m sorry you went through that,” she said, tracing her fingers across the scar on her own face. “At least mine isn’t tracing the letters of a slur.”

“You’ve been marked by a werewolf, so it may as well be,” Hermione said, shrugging. “You and me, we’ve got more in common then we may have ever realized before.”

“Hmph, well I’m not the Head Girl here,” Lavender said playfully, poking Hermione's side. A jolt ran through her at the contact, and she felt a slight blush rise to her face at the feeling that surged through her. She took a glance at the woman beside her and was comforted in the fact that Hermione was too busy looking at the passing scenery to notice her faint blush.

“I’m not actually Head Girl,” Hermione said after a moment, as if she had to work up the courage to speak the words.

“Then who is?”

“Ginny Weasley. And she deserves it, I did skip out on a year of school after all, and she is quite talented and bright herself.”

“Still sounds like a shit choice compared to you,” Lavender said, shaking her head.

“Anyways, it’s about time for me to get going,” Hermione said, stepping back from the rail. “It’s been great chatting with you again, Lavender,” she said giving her a small smile. “Feel free to reach out to me, if you ever want to talk, or something.”

“I will,” Lavender said, nodding to the brunette as she left the veranda. There was no way that she was going back onto the train proper, with all the different smells and sounds. Besides, it wasn’t like there were many people there who would welcome her presence.

 

***

 

Lavender’s stomach grumbled painfully as she contemplated what to do next. She had meant to ask Parvati to bring her a plate of food, but she had forgotten to, and her roommate was so blissfully light-headed at times that she hadn’t stopped to consider why Lavender had never joined her in the Great Hall. Lavender massaged her temples at the thought of all the voices and smells that would be there, and she let her body fall backwards onto her bed with a loud thump. Today had not been a great day. Between the lack of sleep she had gotten the night before, the menagerie of uncomfortable looks she had received, and the nervous pit at the bottom of her stomach, Lavender Brown was in a singularly drained state. Or so she had thought, until she heard her voice.

“Lavender,” the voice called out softly, as a familiar smell of peach and parchment and pheromones wafted closer, accompanied by a mix of rich smelling foods. “I noticed you never made it to the great hall, so I thought that you might appreciate it if I brought you some food.”

Lavender’s heart skipped a beat, before jolting into a much more rapid pace than it had been languidly laying in before. Why, of all times, did she have to start falling for one of the only girls who treated her with decency? Of course, if Lavender was honest with herself, she had begun feeling the stirrings of attraction towards Hermione a long time ago, though it seemed far more renewed and intense now than it had been ever before.

“Lavender?” Hermione asked again, approaching her bed. “Are you in here.”

“Yeah,” Lavender said, pulling back the curtains from around her bed. “Thanks Hermione, I really appreciate it,” she said, giving the girl a weak smile. Lavender set the plate down on her lap and began wolfishly digging into the roast beef.

Hermione sank down onto the bed beside her and seemed to collapse against Lavender as she laid her head on her shoulder. Lavender stiffened, her flesh burning at the feeling of Hermione’s body pressed up against the thin fabric of her camisole and of her soft cheek resting against her collarbone. “It’s been a tough day, Lav,” she said softly, her voice tickling Lavender’s skin. “They may have rebuilt Hogwarts, but it’s not the same, and I’m not the same either. I’m not sure I can be that ever-reliable brightest witch of my age anymore.”

Lavender took another bite of her food, considering the situation carefully. “Lav, huh? I’ve never heard you call me that before,” she said teasingly, opting to keep the tone from getting too serious. They rested in silence for a moment as Lavender devoured the rest of her meal, the other woman seeming content to simply stay still against her. Lavender set the plate on the ground beside her bed and turned to face Hermione. It was a mistake, as her face nearly brushed past the brunette’s, whose eyes were closed in quiet bliss. Turning her head away sharply, Lavender’s face darkened to a vibrant red.

“Is it alright if I stay here, next to you for a little while?” Hermione asked softly, her face still nestled against Lavender. “I feel safe here, next to you.”

“That’s alright with me,” Lavender replied. Hesitantly, she reached her hand up to the woman’s head and gently began stroking through the curly hair. Hermione pressed herself closer up against the woman, and Lavender felt a surge of something far deeper than platonic affection from within her.

“Lavender…” Hermione began nervously, “what’s it like, to kiss another woman?”

Lavender felt her heart drop through her chest at the question. “I wouldn’t know,” she said, shaking her head softly, “I’ve never kissed one.”

Hermione’s face flushed a deep crimson, and she moved away from Lavender. “I’m so sorry,” she said, eyes cast towards the ground. “I thought- I thought you might be gay.”

It was Lavender’s turn to blush, as she looked over at the woman beside her. “I… I am, actually,” she said, trying to gauge Hermione's reaction. “I just haven’t met a girl who has been interested in me back, and with this face,” she said, grimacing, “I doubt I’ll have much luck in love.”

“Don’t say that,” Hermione said, as she reached her fingers up to Lavender’s face. “I think you are considerably more attractive than you realize,” she said, her fingers lightly tracing the outline of her scar. “But if you’ve never kissed a woman before, how do you… how do you know you’re gay?”

“Well, it’s the same way you know you’re straight,” Lavender said, her face still flushed. “You don’t have to kiss someone to know when you’re attracted to them. You know because of all the small things that just seem to set you off in ways that other people don't. Things like their smell,” Lavender said, breathing in Hermione’s unique parchment and peach scent, “the way their hair bounces, the way their smile seems to set your heart on fire. The things they do, even the simple ones, seem to make you feel more alive. If that makes sense,” she finished, giving Hermione a small smile.

“I’m going to do something quite stupid, for a change,” Hermione said nervously, looking up at the girl beside her. “Is that alright with you?”

“Please, you can say it directly, it doesn’t bother me. You look quite kissable yourself,” she said, feeling a sense of satisfaction as the other woman’s face flushed to an even deeper red than hers. “Just know that I won’t be your experiment, Hermione. I don’t have enough in me to get my heart broken, so don’t start something unless you’re willing to give it a try, and unless you’re going to continue being my friend if it doesn’t work out.”

“And are we friends?” Hermione asked, her lips quirked in a quick smile.

“I’m not sure, let’s find out,” Lavender replied, leaning in for the kiss.

 

***

 

Lavender stared up at the top of her bed, which she had enchanted to look like a moonless night sky. She had only managed to sneak in a couple kisses with Hermione before Parvati came back, stunned, with food in hand for her, but the other witch had been ecstatic that her friend had found someone and had wanted nothing more than to know the juicy details of how it had all begun. Time would tell whether or not she and Hermione would work out together, but that was fine with Lavender, because for once in her life, she began to believe that there was a place in the world for her after all.


End file.
